Part of a Whole
by L.J. Gryphon
Summary: It was hard. It was really, really hard. Watching them now, Cass had to wonder how she even got this far. (One-Shot)


**A/N**: Hey there, it's me again. I got around to watching Big Hero 6 finally and... well, I fell in love. Such great characters oh my gosh I adored them! Good gracious though, Aunt Cass was such an amazing support character. I just had to write something with her in it. So here we go! A little tid-bit about her and the boys before the movie.

Please enjoy!

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**Part of a Whole**

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It was hard. It was really, really hard.

When she would hear people talking about the joys of parenting she would drop whatever it was she was doing to listen with such intensity that it scared even her own sister. "Are you still breathing when you eavesdrop like that?" Melanie would tease her. Cass would retaliate by tugging on her sister's apron strings, and then watch amused as mother scolded Mel for not tying the damn thing while working. Things would escalate from there; flour speckling her brown hair, chocolate sauce dripping down Mel's face, and the classic toss-the-whisk-at-sis shenanigan.

It was hard to lose Melanie… but raising her sister's kids was harder.

Watching them now, Cass had to wonder how she even got this far. The café was closed for the night after a very successful day of business. As she locked the doors and shut the windows, the boys were supposedly helping by cleaning off the tables. Instead, they were chasing each other around said tables, using the wash rags as weapons. She caught their reflection off the window pane and couldn't resist the small smile tugging at her lips. They have grown so much. Tadashi, now sixteen years old, tackled his much smaller, younger brother to the ground. Every movement he made against the eleven year old boy was gentle and soft, as if he were afraid of breaking the scrawny kid beneath him. Hiro, on the other hand, fought back mercilessly as he used his free arm to swat his towel at Tadashi. He couldn't do much damage, no matter how hard he hit. The poor boy was a mess of skinny limbs and an unusually short stature.

"I can't breathe!" Hiro gasped in a desperate façade. The kid always had a flair for the dramatics. "You're crushing… me…"

"What's that? I couldn't hear you over that high pitched squeaking," Tadashi laughed as he began raining tickling blows on the boy's stomach.

Seeing them like that took her breath away. She tried not to think about how much the boys looked like her brother-in-law, or the way Tadashi's nose curved the same way Melanie's did, or the too familiar gleam in Hiro's too familiar eyes. She tried to push away the thought that it took _so long_ to get those kids to smile again after the accident. Their laughter was musical, and it was a tune that was stolen from them for years. How she managed to bring them back from the brink was a miracle, and one she would hope to never have to repeat.

Cass always wanted children. There was a time where she could say she wanted them more than Melanie, as impossible as that seemed once the boys were born. It was Cass who watched the neighbor's young ones, and she who offered to hold the baby for a while. She would push dolls down the street in a stroller to practice. There were many impromptu tea parties with His Royal Highness Sir Prince Mochi the stuffed teddy bear and his loyal court in which Cass would say over an empty china cup: "Oh dear, look at the time! I must really be going if I am to make my baby's birthday ball." It wasn't until she was much older that she received the third most devastating news in her life. The doctor had called her barren, as if she were a desert and the water had long been dried up.

It was hard to learn about her impotence, but telling her youngest nephew that his parents weren't coming home—_never coming home_—was harder.

Cass finished shutting down the café, and with the last flick of a light retired to the living compartment of the building. The boys continued to wrestle in the dark, neither willing to give ground, though it was clear who had the upper advantage already. Wooden chairs slid over the marbled floor as they tussled back and forth. At some point, Hiro had managed stuff his wash rag down his brother's jeans, and while Tadashi let go to retrieve said intruder the boy made his miraculous escape. In the end they both stood on either side of a table, panting as if they had been in a marathon.

Tadashi rested his hands on his knees and cast a tired grin at his brother. "I'm getting too old for this."

"Yeah, I know. I mean you can only take so many years of losing, right? No one blames you if you retire early old man."

To say that those words set off another bout of play fighting would be an understatement. Their laughter rang through the halls and upstairs where Cass had started on dinner, and her smile from earlier only widened at the sound. She loved those kids. Though she could never replace their parents, she did her best to give them her undying devotion each and every day. They were her kids through and through.

It may be hard—it may even be the most trying experience in her lifetime—but no matter what she would give it her all. Because this was her family. Broken? Sure, but it was mending. They were finally becoming whole again after all these years. Being barren didn't hurt so badly anymore. Her sister's eyes on her nephew's face wasn't so hard looking at anymore. She was a part of that whole, and that was all that mattered.

"I just had the best idea, Aunt Cass!"

There was an exasperated groan from the stairs as the boys ascended. "Oh no, no again."

"We should separate all the marshmallows from the Lucky Charms—Tadashi, just hear me out—and use them as decoration for the cupcakes."

"That's gross kid."

"You're gross."

Cass shook her head at the antics and continued preparing the corned beef and cabbage meal. "Alright you two, dinner's ready, so be prepared to be blown away by the most Irish dish you've ever tasted! Well, at least I think it's Irish. Who knows? Happy Saint Patrick's day, kids!"


End file.
